


The Art of Being a Grandpa

by mellyb6



Series: And Then There Were Four [8]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bedtime Stories, Cooking, Everything is well, Mati, Mati softens some hearts, Mati speaks Spanish and Tréville is lost because he doesn't understand it, Porthos sends texts so you could say he's a character in the story, Riding a Bike, They Visit the Orphanage, Tréville babysits his grandson, Watching cartoons about badass female characters, aka Barbie, but he's too hard on himself he's doing great, or tries to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9267311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyb6/pseuds/mellyb6
Summary: Tréville babysits his grandson for a weekend.Sequel toThird One's the Charm





	

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at the same time as the last chapters in _Third One's the Charm _when Aramis, Porthos and Anne are gone to Athos' country estate for the weekend and they needed someone to look after the boy.__
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> _Some words are actually in Spanish because reasons. You don't need to actually understand them to follow the story and there are like three of them._  
> 

Saying goodbye to his parents when they leave for the country and Mati finds himself alone with Tréville isn't so hard given that they were in the middle of a boardgame when it happened. Sure, Mati has never been by himself with Porthos' father before. But he's known him for quite some time and he likes having him around. And besides, Mati is so absorbed in his game and the fact that he is winning that he can overlook not seeing any of his parents for the next two days.

 

Tréville is trying to keep up with the game, but it's been a long time since he's had someone so animated to play with and Mati doesn't calm down simply because they are by themselves. He's past being shy with Tréville. And he intends on beating the adult.

 

So he pouts and whines when Tréville tells him that it's already dinner time. Anne was pretty intense on rules and Tréville certainly isn't one to break them. He lives for rules himself. Porthos so often complains that his father is too strict. No matter how much Mati trails behind him and demands that they continue playing, Tréville is having none of it. Neither before or after a quiet dinner.

 

Instead, Mati seems to have changed his mind and asks for a movie before going to bed. It is Saturday night after all. With his big hopeful eyes and the way he looks up at him, Tréville can't say no to that request. He even ends up putting the boardgame away while Mati settles on the couch. Tiny legs dangling off, shoes lost somewhere in the house as he browses Netflix to find a cartoon.

 

Halfway through the movie, nestled against Tréville who has decided he needs to stop being surprised by how naturally the child has adopted him, Mati yawns loudly. And rubs at his eyes, even though he denies it firmly once Tréville suggests that perhaps they should go to bed. Five minutes later, though, Mati's eyelids keep on flickering closed and this time, he doesn't protest when the TV is turned off. The only thing that bothers him is to have to walk up the stairs to the bedrooms.

 

Mati is slurring through his theories for the end of the movie as he changes into his pjs. Leaving Tréville hanging with the top in his hand because Mati is too focused on what could happen and also too tired to pay attention to his surroundings.

 

“Do you think Barbie would beat Papá in a fight?” he randomly asks after he's done having his head stuck in his pjs.

 

“I wouldn't know. I've never seen your father fence.”

 

“He's very good! He's the best!”

 

“So I'm sure she wouldn't beat him, then.”

 

“But she has a sword and she has a dress and …...and........” Mati struggles for the correct word, flaps his arms in the air, makes some gestures that Tréville has to recognize.

 

“Fans?”

 

“Yes! Those! Papá doesn't have those when he fights....”

 

“So Barbie would win?”

 

“.....I don't know.....”

 

Mati yawns, shows Tréville a fantastic set of teeth they've just brushed and shuffles to his bed for the weekend. He looks incredibly small in Porthos' old bed, in spite of the few teddy bears he's brought along to feel more at home in a house he's only napped in in the past. Tréville is a bit anxious to see how it will go this time, since it's the first time someone so little spends so much time with him. But Mati might be fussing sometimes, so far he's been very well-behaved. It's only been a few hours yet Tréville thinks he can do this. It' not so hard after all. And he isn't an idiot. He knows how to care for a child.

 

He draws the blanket up to Mati's chin, asks him if he's cold and Mati shakes his head.

 

“I will fight with swords, too, you know?”

 

“Will you?”

 

“Yes. But Mamá said no. Mamá said I'm too small.”

 

Tréville would laugh because of the cute look on Mati's face as he voices his disappointment and annoyance that this really simple wish of his can't be granted, no mater how many times he asks for it. But he sounds serious, as serious as a 6-year old can be so Tréville nods instead.

 

“I heard you were becoming a great swimmer, though.”

 

“Yes! I go to the pool with Papá. I swim _more fast_ than Porfos he says.”

 

“You should race him then.”

 

That's something Tréville would like to see.

 

“And you.....”

 

“If you want yes.”

 

Tréville can't help smiling this time.

 

“Tomorrow?”

 

“Tomorrow we'll play football. I don't think your mother has packed your swimming suit.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Good night, now.”

 

Tréville lingers above the bed, pats Mati's head because he isn't sure anything else would be appreciated or welcome and then he switches the lights off and closes the door and it isn't as difficult as it was during the first days of Porthos staying with him. Children aren't as sulky or irritable as problematic teenagers. Tréville is comfortable. Enough to tell Porthos to shut it after he's texted him and Aramis that the boy was asleep and Porthos actually responded with a high five smiley.

 

He has no idea what time it is when he is awoken by some very close sobbing and Mati pulling on his arm, quite forcefully. A lot of cries and strangled gasps and Tréville is too disoriented to act anything but surprised. His heart is also racing a bit too fast at the unexpected situation. He can't make out the boy in the darkness but he can see how the child shifts on his spot restlessly. Crying and crying and mumbling so fast. In Spanish. A language Tréville has literally no knowledge of except the random words and phrases everybody uses. Mati being so young and clearly distressed doesn't make it easier.

 

“What is it?” Tréville asks, feeling for the light.

 

More tears and hiccupping and Mati's face is drenched when Tréville can focus on it correctly. Red eyes and little shoulders heaving and Spanish. So much Spanish. Even if he's been warned that it was the language the boy would speak upon waking up, Tréville didn't expect it to be used in such a dramatic situation. Or so it seems.

 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

 

“ _No!!!!!! Lo siento.....Cama....cama....”_

 

“Mati, calm down. I don't....I don't understand what you're saying. What's wrong?”

 

More hiccups and wailing and Tréville begins to panic. Enough to sit up in bed, throw back the cover and reach for the poor little boy who is unable to settle down and continues with his gibberish. Tréville does recognize the numerous _Mam_ _á_ which punctuate the ramblings but there's nothing he can do about this. She's a good hundred of kilometers away.

 

“Shit,” Tréville curses as soon as he's managed to get a hold of Mati to realize that his pjs are wet. Swearing obviously wasn't a smart move: Mati's crying starts again, louder.

 

He's done something so wrong and now Tréville is upset with him and it's terrible. And it's the middle of the night and Mati is so tired and he wants his parents because he had no bedtime story and no one kissed him goodnight and somehow he didn't wake up and wet his bed and he's a baby and Tréville doesn't like him anymore. And he's tired. He wants to sleep. But his clothes are wet and his teddy bear smells terrible and it's a catastrophe and Mati hiccups, hiccups again and struggles to breathe for a second. Panicks even more and he wants his mother.

 

“Sorry.....Sorry..... _Cama_.....I....I.....”

 

“It's okay. It's nothing. Don't worry about it. We'll get you cleaned up real quick.”

 

This certainly never happened when Porthos was a teenager but Tréville is the opposite of mad. The opposite of what Mati assumes. So Tréville has to hug him tightly while he carries him back to the other room. And Mati grips his tee-shirt with all the little strength he can put in his fists. Awkwardly, Tréville manages to sit at the foot of the bed until the child settles and eventually, his cries turn into silent tears and the silent tears turn into sniffing.

 

“I'm not mad at you,” Tréville whispers, pushing the blond hair away from his face.

 

It feels like Mati is burying himself against him, holding on with all his might. There's no point trying to move now, so Tréville ends up patting the boy's back. Something must have gone wrong in the bedtime rituals but he isn't particularly eager to investigate what it was right now. Not when Mati ends up almost falling back asleep on him, mumbling about his mother over and over.

 

Then the mumbles are half a mix of French and Spanish and it's no wonder Porthos believes he's picking up so much knowledge about the foreign language so quickly while never really speaking any of it. It continues after Mati has put on dry clothes, that he's blown his nose, cleaned his face and drowsed in the fluffiest armchair possible, waiting for his bed to be ready for sleeping again. He's clutching Tréville's tee-shirt so tightly though when he's carried back into soft and fresh bedsheets.

 

Tréville soothes the little's boy hair, watches the little mouth move with silent words, the little chest still heaving a bit. He can see it even in the semi-darkness of the bedroom with the halo of the nightlight. Perhaps the new place and situation anguished the boy more than anticipated. So Tréville leaves the door ajar and leaves the light on in the hallway as well.

 

Mati may have gone back to sleep as soon as he realized he was safe but Tréville definitely can't. He's not tired anymore. Blame it on insomnia which takes him so long to fall asleep in the first place, blame it on having to hurry for Mati to feel comfortable again, blame it on him having too many things on his mind, it doesn't matter. It happens all the time and it's definitely not because of the child. Not that Tréville isn't much worried about him. Mati is all right. He's six.

 

When he was younger, Porthos used to complain all the times that he would be startled out of sleep randomly at night because his new caretaker couldn't keep quiet at night. Which Tréville always found odd considering that Porthos used to sleep in a dormitory at the orphanage so there were bound to be noises at night there as well. Whatever, Porthos would reply and keep on sulking that this was the worst house ever and he was never going to get enough sleep for the rest of his life and perhaps he should just go back to the orphanage and Tréville would be free to bang cabinets and walk as loudly as he wanted whenever he couldn't stay in bed. Which was ridiculous and Tréville very quickly learned not to reply to these provocations.

 

Mati finds nothing to complain about in the morning, when he's awake because he's slept enough and that Tréville has managed to drowse a little bit more in his study. His neck is sore and he'd forgotten to bookmark his page so he has no idea where he'll have to pick up his reading later but it doesn't matter.

 

The boy was quietly playing in his bedroom, which was unlike him, when Tréville saw that he was awake. Yawning and saying his greetings in Spanish. This, Tréville had been warned about and Mati switches back to French easily when he's being spoken to.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Tréville asks over breakfast.

 

Cereal and milk and toasts with Nutella. Mati holds his glass of orange juice with both hands and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Half of his spoonful of cereal misses his mouth and falls back in the bowl. He chews the still crunchy food loudly.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you feel sad?”

 

Mati cocks his head at the surprising question. Because Tréville has so little experience with young kids that he has no idea how to bring up the problem. The boy considers it, mouth open and then shakes his head.

 

“No. You're nice.”

 

“Thank you,” Tréville chuckles.

 

He refills his mug of coffee. Mati watches him intently, taps his spoon against the side of the bowl and some milk splashes. He looks down at it and then very quickly at the adult, a bit afraid he's done something wrong. Again.

 

“You're good. It's nothing,” Tréville reassures him. “I told you. It's okay. Just like you did nothing wrong last night. Do you remember?”

 

Mati wiggles on his chair, looks down at the plate and the toast sitting in it. Blond curls fall on his eyes, shield him from Tréville. His nod is barely noticeable.

 

“Did something upset you last night?” Tréville pushes. “You can tell me, Mati. You said that I'm like your grandpa. Remember?”

 

The word sends tremors to Tréville's heart and his stomach flips. Perhaps he'll get used to it but he still thinks it's too incredible that Porthos could be considered a father and it's been almost a year. It's only been a day since Mati asked him if he was his grandfather and no, Tréville won't get used to it anytime soon. It isn't strange or out of place. Simply too unexpected to feel real.

 

Mati looks up, hesitant, then looks down again.

 

“You didn't read me a bedtime story,” he confesses so fast and so low that Tréville makes him repeat it three more times. And raise his head so he can finally understand what's bothering the boy.

 

“Oh. Did you....did you want one?”

 

Mati shrugs and it's enough of a yes.

 

“I'm sorry. I thought with the movie....You should have told me.”

 

Mati shrugs again, looks down again and pushes everything away. The plate and the glass and the bowl. He keeps the spoon and makes it swirl on the table.

 

“I'll read you one tonight, okay? Or two even, to make up for the one we missed. About whatever you like.”

 

Mati nods, looks up and doesn't look down this time. Tréville is smiling at him from the other side of the table, his fingers drumming against the side of his mug and the boy focuses on them.

 

“Anything else? Do you miss your parents?”

 

“......a little.”

 

“We can call them later if you want.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And your teddy bear is in the dryer so you'll have it back soon.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Aren't you hungry anymore?”

 

“No.”

 

“Mati, come here please.”

 

Tréville pushes his chair back so he can lift the boy onto his lap. Mati has barely eaten anything.

 

“I know this is the first time we're staying together the two of us and you're a bit intimidated but I'm not angry about anything and I want you to have a great time here. Don't you want to have a great time?”

 

“.....yes.”

 

“So do I. So I want you to tell me when something is bothering you, or if there's something that you don't like. Something you're missing or that you need. I won't scold you for any of that. This is like a mini-vacation for you.”

 

“Like when I _gone_ to see grandpa and grandma?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Because you're my grandpa, too?”

 

“Yes, if you want.”

 

Tréville can't help smiling again. He doesn't want to show the child how clueless he is about everything but he'll get better at it and slowly, Mati seems to process it all and return to the joyous self he was the day before. Not as joyous or excited but less withdrawn upon himself at least. Tréville breathes out.

 

“You didn't give me a goodnight kiss,” Mati confesses again. A tiny whisper and he cranes his head up at the adult and the shocked look on his face.

 

“I didn't think you'd want one.”

 

“Yes. Because you're my grandpa so you have to.”

 

“All right, then,” Tréville chuckles. “How about I give you one now?”

 

“But it's not bedtime!”

 

“Let's make a deal, shall we? Our little secret that right now, after we're done with breakfast, we're going to to bedtime correctly. We're going to read a story and then I'll give you a goodnight kiss.”

 

“In the morning?” Mati gasps, baffled that such a thing could happen, but liking this new grandpa a bit more than he used to.

 

“Sure. So that way, we'll say that what happened during the night didn't happen. How's that?”

 

“And then we'll eat breakfast again? Because I'm not tired to sleep my night in the morning.”

 

“We can eat lunch after.”

 

“Crêpes?”

 

Mati being that talkative, Tréville is familiar with and it's easier to handle. Better interactions and he has to laugh at the exhuberant expectation pouring out of the child as Mati leads him upstairs to find a book. That they don't read in the end because Mati much prefers the stories about soldiers that Tréville makes up.

 

They watch the end of the cartoon from the night before after Mati has had enough of stories and that he's complained that Tréville's moustache tickled him when he got his goodnight/good morning kiss. They have to watch it because the batter for the crêpes has to rest a bit for the food to be perfect. Much to Mati's annoyance who would have wanted them at once. So he demands snacks, gets told that he should have finished his breakfast instead and then sulks in front of the movie. But not for too long because he's captivated by the movie and he forgets he was supposed to be hungry or in need of sugar.

 

Besides, Tréville couldn't resist and gave him a chocolate bar anyway. The wrapper has fallen to the floor.

 

 _Mati just asked for coffee._ Tréville texts Porthos some time around noon. _What are you doing to this poor kid?_

 

_You survived. Yay you! As a perfect host I assume you gave him some?_

 

_Are you kidding?_

 

Tréville squints at his phone, waits for Porthos to send some other silly thing because that's how it's going to go. Obviously.

 

_You didn't?? :O Shame on you!_

 

_Stop it._

 

_Really. I have to ask Aramis and Anne but we're taking back your grandpa card I'm afraid._

 

_Watch it or I'll really give him some and we'll see who's laughing then._

 

_Please no! I take everything back. You're amazing and fantastic._

 

_Right. Anyway. We're doing okay._

 

_Glad to hear it. And Aramis says no coffee ever EVER. Thank you. Anne wants to know how the night went._

 

Tréville glances at the boy who's pushed himself to the edge of the couch and as close to the TV as he can without slipping to the ground.

 

 _Good._ Because they're good now indeed and there's no reason or need to alarm her when she is so far away and it'd probably ruin the rest of the day for her. Tréville believes he's handling everything as best as he can. _We're making crêpes for lunch._

 

_Yummy. I'm almost jealous. See you tomorrow._

 

There's a picture attached to the last text. Of the three of them (and Flea but she's blurry so Tréville doubts she was supposed to be in the photograph in the first place) and it looks so sunny where they are. Tréville shows it to Mati who proceeds to pause the movie and then describes the picture in great details, until he wants to say hi for real and they end up calling Porthos.

 

It's a short phonecall, enough to satisfy Mati and his parents in the country. They trust Tréville with him but it's nice to hear his voice anyway. Mati looks and sounds better when they hang up, too. He's excited to help with the cooking and he tries to flip a couple of crêpes. Which end up either on the floor or half in the pan, dangling from it until they break completely and can't be eaten. But Tréville finds it funny, he's more concerned about the boy burning his fingers than wasted food and Mati gets bolder and bolder. Laughing his head off and looking absolutely awestruck when he's finally successful.

 

This is fun and their lunch is delicious because they have ham and cheese and chocolate for dessert and there's even whipped cream. Mati would eat the entire pile if it wasn't for Tréville afraid that he'd be sick. Which he would most likely be. Accidents at night, Tréville can handle. A sick child? He doesn't think he's ready for that.

 

The perspective of a nap before going out isn't well received since Mati has been opposed to naps for as long as his parents can remember. But Tréville needs one and cleverly asks for company. He wouldn't leave the boy unsupervised and Aramis has stressed that no matter what his son said, he had to rest in the afternoon or he would get so cranky it would be a nightmare.

 

Mati is quiet lying on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, playing with the soft light filtring through the curtains. Moving his fingers through the rays of sunshine to create shadows on his skin. He squirms so much that Tréville doesn't know how he could settle down and eventually fall asleep.

 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Mati suddenly asks, out of the blue, shifting so that he can look at the adult lying by his side. Tréville turns his head in surprise.

 

“No.”

 

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Why not what? Why don't I have a boyfriend?”

 

“Or a girlfriend. You can have whatever you want, Papá said. If they like you back and they want you. And then you can kiss them on the lips. That's what Papá and Porfos do. And Papá and Mamá. And Mamá and Porfos I think.”

 

“That's a lot of kissing on the lips.”

 

“......yes. But because they're in love, Papá said.”

 

“And how's that?” Tréville has to wonder.

 

He's still wrapping his head around the news Porthos dropped on him the day before. That the three of them were dating and that it was going well. That they were making it work by whatever miracle. That and taking care of the child. He would never judge Porthos for doing whatever he wants with his life, it is his life after all but it's so new and so unexpected and quite unusual. He'll come to terms with it. They looked happy when they dropped Mati and as long as Porthos is content, Tréville doesn't see what the problem could be.

 

It doesn't mean he doesn't find it _strange_. That relationship.

 

So he wonders what it must look like from the little boy's perspective.

 

“I don't want to be in love and kiss people on the lips. It's yuck.”

 

Mati sticks his tongue out, scrunches his nose and Tréville laughs out loud. A deep laughter which startles Mati just enough before he giggles and bounces on the bed a little. The boy isn't questioning anything when it comes to his parents, or not too much. And he's obviously not finding it odd. Or out of place.

 

Tréville drops it.

 

It takes a lot more time for Mati to fall asleep and when he does , he's sprawled on the bed like an octopus, effectively pushing Tréville away so he has to revert to the couch in the living room. Only to be jostled from blissful peace far too early.

 

Mati is the opposite of how he was during the night. He's wide awake and ready for more action. Not shy for a second when he says he's been to the bathroom by himself when Tréville suggests he goes before they leave the house. He also mentions that he's drunk some water, which terrifies Tréville because how could the boy have reached the sink? Did he climb on a chair? Or several? Could he have broken a leg or an arm again?

 

He makes Mati promise he'll ask next time instead.

 

“But you were snoring,” Mati retorts and Tréville has nothing to respond to that.

 

Except that it's time to go. With the candy he always brings to the children at the orphanage whenever he visits. He's spoiling them, he doesn't care and he feels and knows in his bones that he is doing the same with Mati. That even though he's still unsure if he's doing a good job watching over him, he could never ever be mad at him.

 

And Mati holds on to his hand firmly while they're walking in the street. He's chatting about everything and anything, pointing at bright advertiments and shoes or food in the shop windows. He hasn't mentioned his parents since they called them before lunch. He's smiling at Tréville. He's effectively growing more at ease so yes, Tréville is doing a good job watching over him. It's perhaps not perfect but it's working, they're getting along even without Porthos and Aramis around.

 

Besides, Mati is looking forward to the football game in the orphanage courtyard. Looking forward to seeing the friends he's made when they visited a month ago. And visitors are always appreciated. Tréville with his treats and someone as young as Mati to play with.

 

Football quickly turns into tag and Mati is out of breath, shrilling and clapping his hands, trying to remember as many names as he can. There are so many boys and girls to play with. To eat candy with. They run and run until they couldn't possibly do it any longer and when that happens, it doesn't mean they are exhausted. The children simply come back inside to play. With books or with video games or with some of the many toys scattered everywhere.

 

Mati was promised many new friends to play with, the children at the orphanage were promised the new boy they had met the month before and that they hadn't forgotten at all. It's not often they get to make a friend who doesn't always stay with them. To say that they are getting along is an understatement. Even the older kids seem to like Mati. Not enough to be enrolled in the little ones' games, but enough to tolerate him and not push him away when he very shyly, very quietly asks if one of them could help with his shoelaces because Tréville is busy talking with Miss Elise and the other staff members working today.

 

And once the teenager has agreed to help him, Mati won't let her go. He's less fascinating than her music player but it's perhaps a good distraction from a boring afternoon and she gladly follows him wherever he wants. He isn't shy anymore. It's like he's been adopted by the entire community.

 

Miss Elise finds him adorable, especially since he didn't throw any tantrum and has been really polite and well-behaved throughout the afternoon. Not calm at all, extremely animated actually and it's giving Tréville a headache. But he's a kid, she reminds him and that's what they do.

 

Since he seems to be doing a perfect job with his newly acquired grandson, she even suggests that Tréville should try fostering more children. Little ones who would love to stay with him. He hates to disappoint but Mati for one day is already too much and he's exhausted and he isn't as young as he was when he met Porthos. He doesn't think he could do it again. He loves his life the way it is. Now, spoiling Mati to no end for the rest of his life, Tréville can picture it very well. It wouldn't bother him; he loves it. But not having him around all the time. Absolutely not. Thank you very much.

 

At least she tried, Miss Elise sighs and then springs to her feet to break up the imminent fight between the two girls arguing over the TV remote.

 

Because it saves Tréville from cooking another dinner for the boy, even though he would just have to stick to the ones Anne suggested, both him and Mati end up being invited to stay to eat. Not that Mati has anything to say against that. He loves the attention and he loves screaming with his new friends. And helping out a bit because it seems unavoidable.

 

He's exhausted by the time they say goodbye and leave, almost begging for Tréville to carry him all the way home. That's out of the question. Mati is a big boy who is six now and he can walk on his own. He's too tired to actually sulk and follows Tréville dutifully, yawning and clutching strong fingers until he's ready for bedtime. That he's brushed his teeth, that he's gone to the bathroom, that's he's cozy in bed with his teddy bear, the duvet up to his chin and that Tréville is sitting in the armchair to read him the awaited bedtime story the boy didn't get the night before.

 

Mati has grown comfortable enough with his new grandpa to not hesitate to ask him to sit on the bed with him because he's too far away and he can't hear the story correctly. And when Tréville does, Mati immediately goes to hug him and it leaves the adult a bit speechless. Not that it's unexpected but it's heartwarming and this isn't as hard or as time-consuming as Tréville assumed. It is as tiring but kids always are.

 

“I like being with you,” Mati mumbles. “You're nice.”

 

“You're nice, too,” Tréville replies when he's come back down from the thrill of hearing these honest words.

 

Mati is so innocent in all that he says, blurting out feelings randomly and to see him on his own, missing his parents but making the best of the time he has with someone else, someone he's getting to know better, someone he's growing more at ease with, it comforts Tréville. That this little boy is growing up in a different type of family that what is usually expected of the world yet he's growing up to be more open-minded, more tolerant and more accepting maybe, than most of the children his age or even older. And he's so ready to love anyone that he knows he can trust.

 

Perhaps it's a good thing that Porthos met Aramis and that it led to this family. For Porthos, definitely, but also for Tréville. He can't believe he's looking forward to the weekends when he knows Mati will come to visit. He would never have imagined it. And now he has a so-called grandson falling asleep in his house.

 

“You give me chocolate...” Mati yawns. “......tomorrow?”

 

“For breakfast, sure.”

 

“I sleep with.....” Mati yawns again. Tréville feels like it could be contagious. “.....with you?”

 

“Tonight? Oh, no. You have your bed.”

 

“But I sleep with Mamá when I am....I'm in Spain.”

 

“Are we in Spain?”

 

“No but.....you're my grandpa, too.”

 

“And?”

 

Mati looks up with big expectant eyes and Tréville discovers it's very hard to refuse them anything.

 

“I sleep with Mamá at the home of my grandma and grandpa.”

 

“But your mother isn't here right now, is she?”

 

“She's with Papá and Porfos. In the big......house. With the lake and the.....ducks.”

 

“Yes. And you don't sleep with your grandparents when you visit them without your mother, do you?”

 

“No but.....Please?” Mati suddenly remembers the word, as if it could unlock something. It doesn't.

 

“You'll be better off by yourself because I don't sleep a lot at night, you see.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I don't need as much sleep as you do. But if you have a nightmare during the night or that you need me, you can come and I'll help. No need to be afraid like last night. We're all good now. The both of us. Aren't we?”

 

Mati nods as eagerly as he can, disappointed that he can't sleep in the same bed as this new grandpa. But he ends up not waking up at all, tired from the long day and the many emotions he's been through. He's still sleeping when Tréville decides to wake him up. Nine in the morning is late for Mati, or so he's been told.

 

He's glad the night was eventless, that the boy looks groggy but happy at breakfast, rambling about their plans for the day since it's a bank holiday and that Tréville doesn't have to go to work or that Mati doesn't have to go to school. He barely asks after his parents, too focused on the prospect of going to the nearby park to ride his bike.

 

Clad in all the protection gear that Aramis bought – the most expensive he could find in the store because who knows what tragedy could happen with his over-excited son learning how to bike?-, the boy is a little bit wobbly on his small bike yet he's getting better by the minute.

 

Bold enough to decide that he doesn't require the small wheels anymore. He's even wobblier without them, clutching Tréville's arm so tight that the nails dig into the skin and Tréville winces. He doesn't let go, though, shadowing the boy for a while, trying to take pictures because that's a task he's been specifically asked to fulfill so that the boy's parents could have as many keepsakes of their son's progress as they could. And also because Porthos wants pictures of him with Mati. For reasons.

 

Piercing shrieks scare the ducks and the birds once Mati, in his enthusiasm, manages to ride quite a long distance without any help whatsoever. Tréville tries to give him space. If he falls, and he probably will, he's done so a couple of times already, Mati will always get up and shake himself before getting back on the saddle.

 

When Tréville stops dead in his tracks, though, it's not due to a fall or to Mati losing his balance. Quite the opposite.

 

The boy may not be riding the bike on a straight line, it's more like a slalom for now, but he's definitely doing better than he's ever done it in his life and he's so proud of himself. So proud that he can move forward and he doesn't need an adult holding the bike behind him.

 

So he makes Tréville freeze and smile to himself. Damn proud, too.

 

“I'm doing it alone! Look! Grandpa, look!”

 

Then Mati makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder to be sure that his exploit has been witnessed and maybe recorded. The bike doesn't stop because Mati isn't focused anymore. It hits a large rock on the side of the path. Mati wasn't going excessively fast so he doesn't fall that badly but he does hit the ground with a loud noise and a yelp and Tréville has never run so fast in his life.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

There are tears in Mati's eyes, more as a reflex than actual pain since the child is also grinning thanks to his performance. A bit stunned by its abrupt end yet clear-headed enough to whine when Tréville wants to wipe the tears away and smears dirt on the little cheeks.

 

“Did you _saw_ me? I _rided_ it by myself!”

 

“Rode. Yes, I saw you. That was great. Are you okay?”

 

“Yes. Stop rubbing.”

 

“Shit,” Tréville curses when he realizes that Mati's sleeve is scratched and that there's a hole in it from when he fell. Along with a green stain from the grass. The shirt is more than likely ruined, not that the boy seems much concerned about it. The fact that the adult swore is more interesting.

 

“Ooooh. You said a bad word.”

 

“I know. Sorry. But look at your shirt. Your mother is going to hate it.”

 

“Mamá will scold you?”

 

“Probably not,” Tréville chuckles, helping Mati to his feet. “But I'll buy you another one.”

 

“Later. I'm riding again.”

 

Mati doesn't wait for Tréville to deny him this and off he goes again, battling with the pedals and ringing the bell without meaning to when he grips the handlebars. Tréville was clearly afraid for nothing: the boy is tough and he doesn't make the same mistake again. He only looks back when he's stopped moving. Waving.

 

 _What's that?_ Porthos texts back after Tréville has sent proof of the child's skills.

 

_Mati riding his bike._

 

_You sent me a blurry pic._

 

_No it's a video._

 

_You sent a pic, Dad._

 

_Wait I'm making a video again._

 

Porthos sends a laughing smiley with tears in its eyes, amused by his father's struggle with his phone.

 

_We're on the road. We just left. We're dropping Alice first and I'll text you before we arrive_

 

_No driving and texting!! Don't reply._

 

But Porthos replies nonetheless.

 

_Duh. Anne's driving. See you later._

 

_I'm still your father._

 

_And I'm still very glad you're looking after Mati for us. You're the best and I love you. But I wouldn't go around doing something so stupid._

 

_Good. Here's the video_

 

Porthos doesn't reply this time, certainly too busy showing it to the others -hopefully not to Anne. And then Mati gets hungry because he hasn't taken a break for the entire time they've been in the park and now that he feels immensily proud and satisfied and that he also has a battle wound to show off, he isn't as shy as he was that first night. 

 

He makes Tréville cringe when he exclaims that he can't wait to show his parents the scratch on his skin because Tréville is a hundred per cent sure Aramis will overreact and will want to be sure every inch of injured skin is cleaned and protected with a million band-aids. Which Tréville has already done, bless them for packing a first-aid kit with the riding gear. 

 

It's the very last thing in Mati's mind, though, excited that he is to ride in the old-fashioned and beautiful carousel in the park. The one with the wooden horses and the swan and even the turtle. Tréville gets to hold the bike while Mati rides and rides and rides until he has to be blackmailed into having some snack so he lets go of the carousel. 

 

With a waffle overflowing with powdered sugar and chocolate sauce dripping on his fingers, most of them dirty because Tréville couldn't make the boy stay still long enough to clean his hands, Mati bangs his legs against the bench, humming around his mouthfuls, looking at the dogs and the joggers and the swings that could definitely be worth trying. 

 

“Thirsty,” he says when he's half done eating but it's too much and he gives back the sweet treat to Tréville who finds himself with sugar all over his fingers. Almost as much as there is coating Mati's mouth. 

 

“Don't tell your parents you got Coke every day, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Mati whispers back, happy to be included in such a secret. 

 

His eyes water when he sips on his drink too fast. Too many bubbles to swallow. He comes back for more. 

 

“That's fun. With you,” Mati decides. “We do it again next weekend.”

 

Tréville laughs out loud, thinks that perhaps he could do this more often. Thinks that it's very likely he'll be asked to do it again, given that it may not have been a perfect and worry-free weekend, he managed to take care of his grandson pretty well. 

 

And Mati is over the moon with all the attention and it's what matters in the end. 

 

And in spite of his headache, Tréville is growing so fond of the boy. Enough to not be as stressed as he was when Porthos asked for his help babysitting now that he sees first hand that handling a six-year old isn't an impossible task. 

 

A tiring one? Absolutely. But it's worth it. Even if Tréville ends up with sticky fingers and fears showing Anne the state of her son's clothes. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mati and Tréville watched _Barbie and the Three Musketeers _. Of course they did.__


End file.
